The Ghost Rider: The Legacy of Johnny Blaze
by DreamingCorpse666
Summary: Brianna Blaze had grown up despising the abandonment of her father. With that anger growing inside her, on her sixteenth birthday everything goes to Hell. Literally. With new sorrow and vengeful soul, she must find the one person she hates the most. If she doesn't, Brianna may very well end up repeating history.
1. Chapter 1

The Ghost Rider: Legacy of Johnny Blaze

Chapter One: The Awakening

People say that life starts from the moment you are born. That the wonderful start to your own life is enough to create the embers of happiness until something ruins it. Most often, that doesn't happen for a while. Years, even. Some are lucky to go through most of their childhood without the disruption. But me? Well, it took mere months.

The funny part is? I remember it. At four months old, my attention span should have been practically zero at that age. And from what I knew, no other child could remember that far back. Maybe three years old, or four. Others get the option to have their childhood erased from their minds when things had just become too traumatic, installed into their brains. Its like a free software program to reboot your system so you can could reset your memories as if this or that didn't happen. Lucky assholes. I just had to be the freak who could remember everything.

The way they were all compiled into my brain is weird. Like a huge filing cabinet that when opened, it is difficult to close. Some could think of this as a gift, to remember life so young. The way everything seemed so big and impossible when you're so small. But at the same time so safe because my mother was always there. Her voice always drew me back in from the things that I seemed to see lurking in the shadows. Even then, I could tell they weren't from this world. Inky black figures sneaking in crevices that Mom couldn't see. And as I got older she chalked it up to my having an imaginary friend. But they never stopped. And sometimes, I can hear voices. Calling out to me from some indistinct place I had never known. A part of me felt like something was wrong with me. With thoughts like that at a young age. It led me crying into my mother's arms and her voice telling me everything was okay. But…his voice had gone. I remember a man's voice, gruff and worn. With a slight twang to it. But I remember him holding me too. Though the number of times weren't many, I remember it.

Before he left us.

What I don't understand is the timing of it all. We were a happy family. My parents had rarely fought. If ever. And though I heard strange leering noises at night, I also heard his motorcycle. Of course, I had no idea what it was back then. But, the sound of it returning in the morning was what helped me feel safe. It always meant that he was back. That he wasn't just…gone. But one night, I heard the familiar roar of his bike, and that was it.

Sometimes, through the years I would catch my mother crying in the bathroom randomly. On Christmas, or my birthdays. No cards, no letters. Not even a damn phone call from my father. And every time I caught my mother crying, it made me angry. Infuriated even, to know he could leave her and cause these emotions and pain from her. I only asked about it once or twice. And she would give some lame answer as to why she was hurting. But I knew. And sometimes I got so angry that I scared myself. Like a searing pain in my veins and at the same time, tingling down to my toes. But when I got scared it went away. It always did. Though I didn't know exactly what "it" was, It felt…wrong. And raw.

"Bria Blaze, you get in here!" my mother yelled, startling me.

I was laying in the bed of her maroon colored pickup truck, letting the sun warm my face. It was spring, and the good part of being cyber schooled was the amount of downtime I had after homework. My mother worked two jobs just to keep things going. And she was damn good at it. Though I promised her I would get a part time job for bills, she insisted I enjoyed my time while I'm still young.

The notion made me want to laugh. I had no friends, and neither did she. The closest neighbor we had was almost a mile away in each direction. We lived up in the mountains of Colorado, surrounded by trees and the quiet of the land. I knew Mom liked her privacy, but it was odd how secluded we really were. Though she talked to one or two of our relatives, I had never seen any of them and she rarely mentioned them.

" I'm sixteen today, but somehow I feel a lot older." I sighed, getting up and dusting off my jeans.

Another messed up fact? I don't get sick. Ever. Though my mother said I just have a really good immune system, I doubt that.

I shuffled into our one story home, the screen door squeaking shut loudly. It was pretty big, with a big kitchen, a living room, a bathroom, and three bedrooms. One was hers, another was mine, and the third had been locked ever since I was little. Whenever asked about it, my mother would just tell me it was full of old junk. Though I always thought that it was more than that, I never pushed.

I didn't have to shout for her, I knew my mother was in the kitchen. It was always like that. Though it never ceased to amaze me how I didn't look much like my mother. Sara-Ann Miller was short at a little over five feet, hair pale blond and bone straight complimenting her slightly round cheeks and bright hazel eyes. She was pretty, and my polar opposite. I was closing in on five foot eight, with slightly angular features, black hair that fell in waves to my ass. My eyes, however were different. One was a bright hazel like her, and the other was pale blue. The only traits I received from both parents.

Today she was putting the last of my candles on the double chocolate cake with chocolate chips that I loved so much, humming to herself.

"That looks like diabetes on a plate." I commented, leaning against the counter.

"Bria, do you have to be a smartass?" she asked, smirking.

" No, I'm just being honest. But I will absolutely devour it."

"Oh I know you will. I swear, you could eat a horse." Mom laughed, lighting the candles.

She carried the large cake to me, a warm smile on her face. "I'm not gonna sing. You're too old for it. But happy birthday, gorgeous girl."

"Thanks, Mama." I said, blowing out the candles.

At the time that the wicks were devoid of their flames, a strange sensation flowed through my chest. It was as if the oxygen in the air had been sucked out, the atmosphere caving in on itself. I gasped, trying to catch my breath but I just hiccupped and gagged. My mother set down the cake and I could see her worried expression as she told me to breathe. But I couldn't. It was as if my lungs had shrunk and it was keeping me from getting any air in. I tried opening my mouth but I barely heard myself squeak. The more I tried, the more I felt suffocated. Just like the candle wicks. Everything was getting blurry, as if time had slowed. A laugh sounded in the back of my mind, full of hate. I had no idea who it was, because my mother was starting to get frantic now. It was a tone I had never heard before. But just as quickly as I had noticed it, the laugh was gone, and I could breathe again.

My eyes went wide as I sucked in as much air as I could. Spots clearing my vision, I shifted my head around to take in the whole kitchen. No one was there. Not even the sound of someone leaving. Which only freaked me out more about the strange man laughing.

"Bria. Honey, honey what the hell happened?!" She begged, voice filled with anxiety.

"I-I don't know. I couldn't breathe. And it…burned my throat when I tried." I gasped.

She hugged me to her, making me realize I was on the kitchen tiles, halfway in her lap.

"You scared me half to death." She whispered, trembling.

"I'm okay. Mom, I'm okay." I said, trying to reassure us both.

Mom was hesitant about leaving me that night for her second job at the small diner a few miles away. She insisted she stay home to make sure I didn't have another "accident" as she phrased it. But after telling her for the hundredth time that I felt okay, she relented.

"Alright. But please call me if anything happens." She murmured, looking worried.

"I will. Love you." I replied, hugging her.

"I love you too. Lock the door behind me."

She had always been overprotective of me. Or maybe that was just her in general. But after what happened earlier, I could tell she was a bit spooked. As we ate dinner at the kitchen table, I could feel her glances at me. She oozed fear, though she tried to sound as normal as possible. Even smiling to cover up her true feelings. She often did this whenever she got upset or sad. But tonight, something was different about the way she felt. It was as if she were waiting for something. And that only added to my own emotions.

After about an hour of trying to watch TV, I decided I would smother my emotions in some double chocolate cake and hopefully pass out in a food coma. In my tank top and plaid pajama bottoms, I padded my way into the kitchen. Almost instinctively I paused at the spot where I had been when I had felt choked. My heart thumped as I remembered the look on her face as my mother fumbled with her hands, not knowing how to help me. She'd looked so helpless, and it tore at me. But it wasn't her fault. Or mine. And somehow, I knew it wasn't caused by anything normal. Of course, nothing about me was considered normal. But the way the man had only been in my head. I was the only one who could hear him…and the "why" question kept popping up.

I mentally shook myself, refusing to get scared over it. I had to think about something else. So as to not fuel my fears. Reaching into the fridge, I got out the cake pan and then crossed the kitchen for a knife. Opening the drawer, I noticed that the edges of my vision began to pulse black. Trying to ignore it, I grabbed the knife. Instantly my hand felt a shock run through it, my veins all tingling and warm. It began to spread into my wrist, my gaze locked onto it. I wanted to move my hand away, but it was like I had no control over it. The feeling was completely alien to me.

'_They're coming._' A voice said in my head, making me yell and jump.

"What the fuck?" The voice sounded like me, but different. It sounded sure if itself, unafraid. Even…amused. And once I had heard the voice, my grip on the knife tightened. And the warmth started getting hotter. It made its way up into my shoulder, traveling through my body.

"Oh m-my god. I'm hallucinating. I'm just freaked out from earlier." I stammered.

'_God. What a joke. You say his name even though I am the one that is inside you.'_

Inside? "You? Who are you?" I asked frantically, gaze still onto the knife. It started smoking.

I felt like a kid that had been swarmed with bugs potentially able to bite me. I wanted so bad to shake it off, if that were even possible. But I couldn't. I had no idea why I couldn't move. I felt like someone else was taking me over, little by little. And just like before, time seemed to drag so slowly.

I'm crazy. I'm definitely crazy. There's no way this is real. Maybe the entire day was a hallucination. A dream. Yeah, I'm dreaming. That's it. I just need to wake up.

'_You simple-minded-' _

_"_wake up." I whispered.

_'pathetically naive-' _

"Just wake up!"

'_little girl!' _

"Wake the fuck up!" I shouted, eyes tight.

There was a loud roar both in my ears and in my head. It was guttural, and something I had never heard anywhere before in my life. At that moment, something clicked inside me. And a flood of dizziness took me to the kitchen floor. The tingling in my veins became a numbness that still felt like I was on fire. That warmth that had grown hotter now felt like it was beginning to melt my flesh. The flames licked and danced sporadically into my blood. The whole room seemed to get even hotter, though it wasn't the kitchen. There was nothing wrong with it. It was all coming from inside. Inside me. And it absolutely terrified me.

"Go away! Get out of me!" I screamed, feeling nothing but pain now.

'_Stop resisting and let me in, Brianna!'_ The voice commanded.

"No! It hurts!"

'_Now_!'

I sobbed, one hand clawing at my chest as the pain spread to my abdomen and lower limbs. I almost lost consciousness as I saw tiny flames start flickering on the knife still grasped tightly in my fist. Sweat poured down my face, mixing with my tears as I desperately tried to make sense of it all. Could I call 911? No, what would I say? That a demon was in my head, speaking to me and causing me terrible pain? That I could see fire form on a knife when there was no chemicals around to spark a flame? I would be sent to a mental institution in a heartbeat. So all I could do was try to get control over myself. Though I didn't even feel like me. I felt someone else. I felt anger. I felt….hunger….

_'Yes. Hungry_.' The voice rasped.

"No. Get the fuck out of my head!" I yelled, forcing myself to grab the knife from my other hand.

I threw it across the room, watching it clatter across the tiled floor. At the same time, like a vacuum, the flames that were engulfing my ankles now, vanished. The pain slowly dissipated as if hesitantly. And my skin, though drenched in sweat, returned somewhat to normal. I sat up, holding my elbows, clothes clinging to me, panting. As I gazed somewhat dazed around my house, I felt a small sense of relief and began sobbing in fear.

"Please just leave me alone…" I begged, covering my head with my hands and curling in on myself.

At some point, I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew my mother was coming in and yelling my name. Her arms went around me, but I was too drained of energy and way too tired to care. I simply grunted, wanting to just lay there. But Sara hooked my arm around her shoulders and half dragged me to my bedroom, and into bed. Almost immediately I curled around my comforter and dozed off again.

Some time later, she came back in and stuck a thermometer into my mouth.

"Hundred and three. Shit." She whispered before I fell back asleep.

I woke for the second time to her arguing on the phone.

"I don't care! Something is not normal! She needs a doctor!"

"What do you mean? John. I have to do something."

"So you won't help. Even after all these years." Her voice was shaky.

"Fine." She said. Then silence.

Who's John? She never said that name in front of me before. So what did he have to do with me? And it seemed she was asking him for help. Mom didn't really talk to any one.

I sat up, noticing the covers as well as my pillow covered in sweat. Gross. How long had I been sleeping? The windows were black, showing the nightly hour. But my phone was nowhere to be found so I couldn't be sure of the exact time. The fever wasn't gone, I had chills making me shiver, though my body felt hot to the touch. I really needed a shower. But I also wanted to know what the hell was happening to me. And why now? Why me? Are demons real, is that what spoke to me? And the laugh?

"Agh!" I exclaimed, gripping my head.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" A tearful voice said.

"I don't know." I whispered honestly.

She sat on the edge of my bed, noticeably giving me space and shooting worried looks at my eyes. There was something new to her posture and expression. Something I didn't feel comfortable with. Something I had only just begun to experience myself.

"You're afraid of me." I noted, numbly.

She started, not denying it, instead, she took out a knife from her pocket. The one that I had held in the kitchen. I gasped as I realized that the knife had black fingerprints on it, almost like coal dust. I licked my lips, hesitantly reaching out. Wrapped my fingers around the handle. My heart sank as they black markings matched my fingers perfectly.

"Mama…what's wrong with me?" I asked, looking at the knife.

"We need to talk. I think it's time you knew about your father." She nodded, eyes hooded with exhaustion. She slowly reached out and ran a finger over my cheek. "I wanted to hope that you were…different but it seems you really do have his blood in you. And enough of it to cause all this in just a short time."

"My father?" Anger swelled in me. "I am not my father."

"I know you don't like that he left. Neither do I. But….circumstances made him leave. Not because he doesn't love you. " Sara-Ann said softly.

"I don't care. He could have come back. To visit. A call?" My eyes narrowed.

"Bria, he's still your father. And one day you're going to have to see him."

"And why's that." I Challenged.

"It's a long story-." She began, nervously playing with her hands.

My head snapped to the hallway outside my room as someone knocked on the front door of the house. Almost immediately I had a terrible feeling in my gut and there was something acidic in my mouth. Made me want to vomit. For a second I just stared at my mother, reading her reaction. She looked confused, but held her finger out to me and went to answer it.

"No, don't. Don't go! Something's wrong!" I hissed.

My heart sped up as she ignored me, walking out of the room.

I yanked back the covers, rushing to my feet. I wobbled slightly and used the door to catch myself. I was apparently still pretty weak. But I knew I had to check, just to make sure she was okay. As I inched toward the hall, my chest started to get warm and the terrible taste in my mouth got worse. But more than that, I something boiled in my blood.

"What? He's not here. He hasn't been in years." Mom's voice trailed from down the front door.

"Maybe not. But someone else is. And as of three days ago, we were able to sense her." A man grunted.

Me? What the hell could they want with me?

"Im sorry gentlemen, but I have no idea who you're talking about." She said smoothly. "I've lived alone since he left."

Someone growled and I could hear a scuffle. Mom screamed. Whoever it was, obviously hadn't bought it. Hiding near the doorway, I covered my mouth with my hand and crouched, hoping they would believe I wasn't there and let her go.

"You lie. I can smell it, you useless slut. And I can smell the girl." Another male voice retorted.

My mother whimpered in fear. Another guy laughed. How many of them were there?

I felt the presences of five people. Somehow, I knew that three were at the door and the other two were patrolling the outside of the house. I could feel it. I could feel them, their energies full of hate. Though it genuinely begged the question as to why they wanted me. And what they wanted me for.

How could I know all this?

"Apox, go check the bedrooms. Alix, you get the rest of the place. Ill make sure mommy doesn't go nowhere. Though…. I smell fear in the rear of this dump." The first man said, amused. Though he wanted to find me, he seemed amused in the fact that it wasn't just a quick grab. He must be a tracker. He liked the hunt.

As I peeked around the corner if the wall, my mother managed to fall from the man's grasp. I could see him from where I sat. Tall, muscled almost like a wrestler. He had longer hair tied back in a low ponytail and a weird tattoo of a pentagram on his neck. He had on a brown trench coat, black pants and black boots. The man looked creepy as hell with an expression that said he would gladly crush a child's skull if someone paid the right price.

My eyes widened. I couldn't find the other two. They must have been in one of the other rooms. I didn't he much time to decide if I could dial the cops in time or if I should try grabbing for my mother. Though I didn't see any blood, I wasn't sure if he had hurt her anywhere.

Suddenly my mother moved and picked up a vase on one of the end tables, smashing it over the leader's head. He barely flinched. Barely budged. Instead, his face twisted in fury and he kicked her. Sara flew across the room and into the entertainment stand. Glass shards landed on the rug and howled in pain. This caused the guy to laugh and for me to, without thinking, expose myself by rushing to her side.

"No…" I exhaled, looking at her wounds.

"Mama, there's so much blood! What do I do?" I begged, throat closing.

"You have to…get out of here. You can't let them take…you." Mom gasped.

"No. Ill call the police. They'll bring an ambulance. I just need…" I trailed off, searching for a phone.

"No. I'm…already…gone. You're important. You…have…to go." She struggled, blood covering the inside of her mouth. "My pocket. Take the…envelope. And…go." Her eyes were starting to glaze over.

"Enough. You're coming with me." The man said, starting forward.

I reached into her hoodie, taking the thick package. Tears were running from my cheeks.

Anger and new hate of my own made me grind my teeth. But I pushed it back. My body, still hot with fever, began to itch all over. The goosebumps and chills from earlier were gone. I tucked the envelope into the side of my bra and looked back at my mother. She was right, she wouldn't make it. He must have had something sharp in his boot because three puncture wounds ran deep into her chest. Scarlet liquid poured out as she trembled, more blood ran down her back into the carpet from the shards of glass that had penetrated her back. And from the look of it, her right arm was broken.

Trench-coat-man grabbed my wrist, pulling me backwards.

"Find…your…father. I…love…y-." She gasped, but it was cut short by one of the other men reaching down and twisting her neck. My mother, the woman that had loved me from infancy, was staring at me with lifeless eyes and a gaping mouth, blood and glass surrounding her place of death.

Seeing her like that. Seeing her dead. Seeing her so easily taken from me, made the fire burn. Made me fill with so much hatred and anger that my head fell back and I screamed in rage. Withing a split second, I felt that same licking of flames in my veins and the feeling of absolute terror as my body seemed to once again be taken over.

_'Brianna. Will you let me in?_' the familiar voice asked.

I didn't answer. I couldn't bring myself to. I didn't even try to hold back the pain as it spread through my body. The fever had been replaced by something much worse. And I was sure that whatever was inside me, was going to kill me as it took over. My body was being invaded and this time I couldn't give two shits. I kept seeing my mother in front of me as the man clapped his other hand over my mouth, leading me past the from door. My bones felt like Jell-O, my skin like liquid lava, melting, scorching. I didn't think I would have relief. My heart hammered in my chest and the rage turned into a hunger, one that made me growl like an animal.

_'I will not finish us until you give consent.' _

Us?

You. Will you kill them? I asked mentally.

'_Yes_.' The other me said softly.

"Then...do it." I whispered, voice hoarse and weak.

She laughed a vicious sound, filled with triumph. '_Finally_!'

The pain doubled, forcing the man to drop me just beside the large SUV. All five men were there now, looking at me as I seized in agony. I wailed and cried for help as I felt every nerve ending, every branch of veins, ever bone in my body turn to what felt like liquid fire. They all laughed, sickeningly enjoying the fact that I was in such torture. Someone else's hands grasped my own and fused into me, as if two people were becoming one. My eyes shut tight, feeling hollow. I couldn't feel the sweat anymore. Or tears.

The men stopped laughing as they realized that something was off. They loaded me into the trunk of the vehicle and got in themselves, speaking hurriedly.

As I gasped, the pain now gone, I reached up and looked at myself in the reflection of the back window of the car. What I saw made me jump. I didn't have a face. Least not with skin on it. Fire, red and dangerous, flowed out of my exposed skull instead of my human hair. And my eyes! They were completely black. No pupils, no eyeballs at all. I didn't even need to blink. My mouth was just the rows of teeth and jawbones. Lifting my hand in front of my own eyes, there were the same flames covering my bone fingers. No muscles, no veins. Just pure white bone. The flames seemed to cover every part of my body, though my clothes had managed to stay intact. But the fire…it should have burned me. In all that time of pain, I felt none now that it covered my body. I felt strong. And warm. And…

"_Hungry_." I said.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The first murders

I waited patiently for the car to come to a complete stop. And when it did, I braced myself against the back of the trunk. The new me stared back in my reflection, but I knew I wasn't alone. It wasn't me that had caused this. And it wasn't me practically drooling in anticipation while waiting for my captors to open the hatch. Something, some weird sense of another being, was really with me. I was sharing a thinking space, an aura, with something else. But it oddly felt like a part of me. And I was scared…yet not.

"What am I?" I asked out loud.

'_You'll find out soon. For now, focus. They're coming.' _The voice in my head said impatiently.

Seconds later, the voice proved truth as the door swung upwards. The group of men all stared at me, with mixed expressions of hate and awe. The leader stepped forward, staring into my eyeless sockets fearlessly. Which only fueled our anger more, flames flickering for a split second.

He smirked, "She's not like her father. She hasn't been a rider long, so she ain't confident. Tie her up."

_Oh yeah? _

"Wait!" I exclaimed, though a bit too late. My hands gripped his neck, squeezing with little effort. But it wasn't under my control. We locked eyes with him, showing the same fearlessness as he had. A laugh erupted from my throat, animalistic and completely unlike myself. Then again, I wasn't sure which part was myself and what belonged to the invader of my body. At that moment, I didn't care much. I just wanted revenge.

"_You. Killed. My. Mother." _I ground out, voice both demonic and transparent.

"Oh, you miss mommy? I can help you see her again!" He laughed weakly.

We roared, merely centimeters from his ugly mug, squeezing his neck even tighter. He grunted now, eyes going completely black and a dark aura surrounding him.

"Fuck this. Kill her!" he shouted, prying my hands from his body.

'_Brianna! Get the humans first!'_

All of them rushed me at once, gripping different parts of my body to keep me restrained. It failed, since my hands, still covered in the painless orange and yellow flames, shot out at my captors, quite literally melting the skin that the lava touched. The mortals fell to the concrete, screaming with the sounds of sizzling flesh. Within seconds, most of their corpses were bones with dangling skin and muscle. The others, to my surprise, merely suffered burns that healed nearly as soon as they were inflicted.

_'Them. They're demons. I can smell it.' _

"Oh, you can smell it?" I said sarcastically.

'_Now's not the time, little girl. Kill them.' _

"I'm going to pretend you didn't-whoa!" I shouted, arms shooting out again abruptly.

_'Shut up and fight!' _The other me yelled.

"I've never killed people before!" I exclaimed.

_'Oh, for shits sake.' _

She mentally pushed me aside, rushing to the SUV as the last three men started towards me. I could see in my mind what she was going to do before she gripped the edge of the hatch to the trunk, and yanked until it was free of its hinges. We threw it in the air once, then caught it and spun, whipping it at Alix, who had been closest. The force of the metal dug into his abdomen and he flew back, blood being forced from his mouth. Apox, his twin brother, gave a worried glance behind him before locking eyes with me, and jumping forward with a look of pure hate. I could simply watch through shared eyes as she roared, black ashes flying from our mouth and turning him into nothing but smoke.

Trench-coat-man grabbed me from behind, held onto my forearms with a strong grip.

"Let's go, you little bitch." He growled, yanking me along towards the SUV.

'_Don't get taken. Brianna, if he doesn't kill you someone else will.' _

"How do you know that?" I whispered.

'_I'll tell you, I promise, but we need to get away from him.' _

I placed two hands on the car, not knowing what I was doing but at the same time willing something to happen. It was like an itch I had to scratch. Letting loose a rubber band that had been wound around my aura for too long.

The vehicle groaned, flames that covered my hands were spreading, changing, molding. There was almost a sigh coming from it as if life were being given. The tires engulfed, covered in black chains that definitely hadn't been there before. Fire danced along both sides of the window, but like my body, no harm came to it. Somehow, the fire wasn't damaging anything. Which confused me as to how I knew I could do something like this. But I was still wondering in awe what the hell I was. My last captor yanked me free of contact, but that didn't stop the car from turning.

''_Brianna, you have to will it to harm him.' _

It's a vehicle, I thought back at her. What can it do without a driver?

I could almost see a wicked smile in her silence.

Then out of nowhere, the car engine revved, then again and again. The tires spun, and the exhaust let out a gust of air that knocked him on his ass. I wanted to laugh, but my body walked over to him lying on the ground, and I hopped on his chest before he could get up.

"_Look into our eyes."_ She told him out loud through me.

He quickly shut them, turning his head away.

I growled, a mix of my voice and hers, creepy to my own ears.

We grabbed his face, and with one hand held his lids open so he had no choice but to look. He tried to resist, but even I was surprised at how strong we were. I held his head in place, feeling like I was diving into something. Like a small tunnel that I couldn't escape from. In it, I saw Trench-coat-man killing my mother. Then her getting thrown across the room. The sound of her getting hurt had pleased him. He wasn't just doing it because he was told. He did it because he liked the kill. The hunt. Seeing someone beneath him and broken, was an excitement for him.

That wasn't the end of it, though. Others were killed before Sara. A family of four, parents and their twin boys. The boys taken and the parents stabbed to death. Then another, with a man in an office of some kind. He had taken great joy in strangling the poor man, even after he had offered to give him the money in his bank account. Faster and faster the images flew by. So many sins, so much happiness from all those killings. Faces, blood, and a sick urge of his radiated through the memories.

'_He disgusts me.' _The voice growled, more animalistic than human.

Without even thinking, I opened my jaws wide. His eyes had turned into what looked like coals from a fresh fire. They sizzled, and the look on his face had frozen in that of surprise mixed with hate. His mouth was wide open, and it made it easier for me to lean forward and allow something to be taken inside my body. It was a warm feeling sliding into the base of my chest. Pleasant and…filling. As if I had eaten something, but at the same time absorbed power from an electric source.

'Delicious.' We whispered happily.

Feeling oddly sated, I felt my body collapse, both mentally confused and for some damn reason, euphoric.

It wasn't until the next day when the sun was right above me that I woke. And when I did, the memories of the night before had come crashing down. I jumped to my feet, looking around like a mad person and noticing how all that was in the place of the bodies was ash. It was eerily quiet and the trees swayed almost menacingly as if responding to the fact that I had killed. My heart sank as my mother's face appeared in my mind with blood pouring out of her mouth. The haunting image was burned there, and made my fists clench.

'_I am sorry about Sara.' _

"Sorry? Sorry! This is entirely your fault! Why couldn't you just leave me alone? Why did it have to come to this? I should be sharing pancakes with my mom, not wishing that she wasn't left dead in our living room." I hiccupped, feeling the full force of grief.

' _Yes, but you don't understand. This was going to happen no matter what.'_

"Are you telling me there was never a choice?"

'_Technically, yes.' _

The frustration of the past few days sifted into my chest and was released in a huge sigh. I really needed to understand how this happened, let alone happened to me. I had killed people. And that alone was enough to make panicked thoughts scream at me. There was a desperate part of me that wanted to believe that this all was just a horrible dream. One that I would wake up from and have leftover cake with my mother, who would be completely alive and smiling as the chocolate frosting got stuck to the roof of my mouth. The one person who hadn't walked out on me when I was young. And the one person who had loved me even when it had become clear that she'd started to be as afraid of me as I was becoming.

But none of that was more than a childish fantasy. She was really gone.

The SUV must not have gotten far since we were only a few streets away from my house. The road was surprisingly barren, which must have been the reason for no one bothering to wake a sleeping teenager on the side of the road. Actually, it was most likely a good thing since the other version of myself might come out at any moment. Speaking of….

"I'm normal again." I stated, poking the flesh on my arm.

'_Well of course, you don't stay that way forever.' _

"So you must know what I am then."

'_WE are a member of a demonic force that used to be controlled by the Devil himself.' _

"The Devil? As in Satan?" I asked.

'_Yes. And due to your father, the Ghost Rider, you have inherited the same ability.'_

"That's why those guys same to my house." I murmured.

'_Also correct. Though he will send more.' _

"Why? Why me?"

'_Simply put: You are your father's daughter.'_

"So now what?"

'_If you still have the envelope Sara-Ann gave you, open it.' _

Blinking with the knowledge that it had clearly been forgotten in the fight the previous night, I pat my chest to find it still tucked away. I opened it and several papers slid out along with another smaller envelope full of cash and a photo of mom and I at Christmas. It had been one of the only holidays she could make me smile for a picture. But looking at how it must've meant so much to her, guilt clouded my heart.

One of the documents that had fallen was a letter from Sara to me:

_My Dearest Brianna, _

_I know if you have this letter in your hands, it is time for you to know the complete truth behind where you come from. All these years I have done my hardest to keep you from such a terrible world. A world you would not have known if John hadn't been your father. Though I'm not sure it was the best way to raise you, keeping you close to me has only given me more time to watch you grow into a wonderful young woman. It's already beginning to show, how strong and independent you will continue to be. And in those traits you'll find a way to handle anything that comes your way. _

_With that in mind, learning how to manage your new abilities is something I cannot help you with, therefor you will have to face a lot of scary and new things as you reach adulthood. Some, you may even need to deal with on your own. _

_I'm sorry, sweetheart. Can't imagine what you could be going through or thinking at a time like this. But it is not my place to say anything about the rest. You'll need to find your father. He will know how to guide you along to control urges that will be rising, if they haven't already. I've been in touch with him over the years, though very briefly and hopefully seeing you will fill his heart with the same joy that he used to have when he would hold you in his arms. That small amount of time that we were a family. I have included a map with his most recent location, along with enough cash to help you along until you reach him. Stay safe, Bria. I'm very proud of how you've grown. And I love you always. _

_-Mama _

"Mama…." I whispered, eyes filling with fresh tears.

'_So we need to find John.'_

Nodding, I opened the smaller envelope. "Holy shit."

There was a thick stack of hundred dollar bills nestled inside. There had to be anywhere from two to five grand. And while I knew she'd worked two jobs, there was still the question as to where all this came from. Sara had always made it seem like we were barely scraping by. Could she have been saving since he'd left us? Could she have had some inkling of what was going to happen?

Sure enough, there was also a map of Colorado. It showed where my home was in Cripple Creek, and then all the way towards the border was a large circle around Wray. It was a long ways away, let alone on feet. I sighed with the realization that was four to five hours of driving alone.

"Well there goes us getting there today." I mumbled.

'_The car, Brianna.' _

"The SUV?" I looked around until I saw it, motionless and completely normal, save for a few scratches.

The slippers still on my feet from the night before crunched in the dirt as we made our way to the truck. The keys were oddly enough still in the ignition. Once I sat in the driver's seat, a disturbing and hesitant sentence came from my lips.

"We have to go back. I'll need to pack some shit and…bury my mother."

' _I don't think that's a good idea. What if they suspect that and show up?'_

"Look, Demon, you probably wouldn't know since you don't have family, but this is something I just have to do. She deserves to be at rest. This isn't some distant relative I never got the chance to know, here. We're talking about the one that raised me. Unlike my no good father, Sara actually cared. So yes, even if those jerks came back, we have to go. We can just scare 'em off by turning into that creepy thing, right?" I said firmly, closing the car door and testing the engine. It roared to live quickly. It felt very lucky and convenient to know at least the basics about driving. Mom did make sure to start teaching me as soon as I turned fifteen. Though I only had my permit, it would have to be enough for me to drive over four hours through Colorado.

'_I am not just a demon, first of all. I am you.' _

"That makes no sense." I scoffed.

'_And…we can only turn at night.'_ It continued, ignoring my comment.

"What? Why?" I asked.

'_I'm not sure. But we need to find John, he'll know.'_

"Fine." I huffed, and put the vehicle in reverse to pull out onto the correct side of the road. My heart hammered like a hummingbird, nerves shot. It was quiet during the ride back to the house. But it only served to help get my thoughts in order. I was still reeling from the events during the past few days. How it had happened so quickly. And I was still afraid of this…other half of me that seemed perfectly okay with how we had killed multiple people no more than twelve hours earlier. Frankly, it caused fear towards her or…it…to increase slightly.

On the opposite side of that though, was the fact that they were looking to kidnap me. So maybe this thing inside me wasn't too much in the wrong for protecting me. Whether it really was demons after me or not, someone wanted to cause torture in my life. And other than my absentee father, no one else could be taken for that purpose. Even if John were to be accepted instead of myself, there wouldn't be much in the way of guilt there. The man couldn't care less about me. He refused to see me or to help when I was laying in the bed with a fever that would have caused more harm to a normal teenage girl. So if by chance there was some way he would stick around, it would be very difficult not to punch the asshole in the face considering what he's inflicted on Sara. She might still be alive if it weren't for him.

It didn't take more than a few minutes to get back to the street where my house stood, vacant and as lifeless as it had been last night. Normally I could sense my mother in the house when I was approaching. Always something to look forward to, especially during a bad day. She represented so much happiness. But there was nothing to feel as the partially open front door became closer and closer. It was hard enough to live with the blood on my hands from those we'd fought off, but to face her? Could I?

'_Be careful. They might come back. Keep your hands free.'_

"Got it." I whispered.

I eased the door open with my elbow, slowly and quietly. It didn't seem like anyone was here, no heat signatures or auras appeared to be in or around the residence. In fact, it was surprisingly void of all life or sound.

Everything was exactly how it'd been left. Glass and drops of dried blood still covered the carpeted floor. Scratches and nail marks scarred the doorframe from my struggles. Must have happened when they were trying to carry me to the car. The lamp was shattered. The light switch for some reason wouldn't even work. And only a few steps in, I had to struggle not to vomit as the smell hit. My mother's pale and lifeless corpse was sitting, eyes staring eerily ahead. Her one hand was palm up on the rug, slightly open as if her last action was to try to reach out as I'd been pulled from the front door.

About two hours later, Sara-Ann's grave was a pile of freshly turned soil and a small patch of flowers on top. I knelt there with the tears and sweat lining the dirt on my face from the effort of digging and shoveling. When I'd had to pick her body up, I couldn't do anything other than cry and close her eyes. Supposedly, it helped to avoid the soul from being trapped in the body, and she deserved true freedom from the shitty way she'd had to suffer her last moments.

_It _also stayed quiet, seeming to understand the need for a private goodbye as I pat the earth down with the palms of my hands. Didn't even care that the cops could show up at any minute to see me burying my mother and a living room full of blood and glass. I just wanted to be close to her for as long as I could before I inevitably had to leave this place for what could be forever.

'_For now.'_ She finally spoke quietly.

"What was that?" I sniffed, wiping my eyes.

'_There might come a time when you can come back. Even just to visit the grave.'_

"Yeah. I guess." It was slightly surprising that there could be a compassionate meaning to the words and not just by fact. I was genuinely still scared of what this…thing inside me was. I only knew the little bits she told me from time to time. No idea why it had to show up on the day of my sixteenth birthday. Or where it really came from. All I knew was that it started with John. And that was the only person that could help me now.

Sigh. "I'm screwed."


End file.
